The mice are hungry and they'll eat your precious investments if you don't watch out. Mr. Bailey even seems aware of the creeping horror that lies in wait behind the kitchen walls. Don't turn off the lights, he pleads mutely. I can hear their silent, furry breathing.
As the rodentia can tell you, E90 cards like this one come in three flavors: ketchupy E90-1 (Pittsburgh players), deep-dish E90-2 (Chicago players), and "kitchen sink" E90-3 (all MLB players). Being a STL hurler, Bill Bailey is from the last group, whose full set numbers 118 cards. Also known as American Caramels, the set runs big money, even for low-grade commons. Expect to pay hundreds for the pleasure of owning an actual star.
Speaking of money, one of the booths from this year's National card show hawked insurance for your collectibles. Given the myriad of things that can happen to paper, I wonder how they'd react to claims of bug infestation or rodent damage. Back in my Nintendo-working years, the service department would occasionally receive non-functional game systems full of mouse poop. Or a roach nest. Or silverfish. In a word, ugh. At least the modern grading slabs and plastic pages keep local fauna at bay so the insured can sleep somewhat better.